


Hey, Beaver!

by Not_A_Hyena



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: /trash/ OCs, Flashbacks, Gen, Original Character-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-10-12 17:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10495914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_A_Hyena/pseuds/Not_A_Hyena
Summary: Prompted by a question from Jacob, Beav reminisces back to his Highschool days and ponders the origin of his nickname.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a legitimate fic. Being an artist, I've never really bothered with prose and story structure before, and I would love to attempt more fics in the future.
> 
> I understand that OC centric fics aren't really that interesting unless they're exploring the setting, but this fic doesn't really have any of that, so I'm going to be honest with you. It's a story focusing on my zootopia OCs and has very little to do with the setting of zootopia, I'm only putting it on here because I was bullied by multiple people to do so.
> 
> If you'd still like to take the time to read it and give me feedback and constructive criticism, I'd be very appreciative.
> 
> Thank you for your time.

"Hey, Beav," I hear Jacob call to me from his spot on our couch, staring at me with a curious expression. "How did you get your nickname?"

I feel Freddy shift in his spot next to me, putting down his controller, his full attention now on the conversation. "Hey, yeah. A beaver called Beaver is pretty weird. Where'd it come from?"

I stare off, puzzled for a moment. I wasn't sure what prompted the question from Jacob, but it was a good question. I've never asked to be called beaver, and I know my family has never called me Beaver; Maybe someone else started it...

\---

I watch as the rest of the class scurries around, getting into groups of three for the class project, worried more about being grouped with their friends than the actual schoolwork. I just stay seated, waiting for things to calm down. I never was a sociable mammal, so I'll just stay where I am, and I'll let the teacher place me in the last group. It's an easier way of doing things, the only painful part is--

"Mr. Beaverly?" I hear the teacher call out. "You did hear me when I said to group up, didn't you?"

I feel like shrinking back into my chair as I feel the rest of the class look my way.

"Yes, ma'am," I mumble, fidgeting with my chewed pencil.

I know she's still staring at me, waiting for me to say anything else. I relax a bit as I hear her sigh. "You can join Mr. Lutreaux and Mr. Enhyderson's group, they need a third.

"Yes Ma'am," I say again as I gather my school materials and trundle along to my new work group.

Two otters. My dad always had something to say about otters, mainly that they were lazy and good for nothing; they've got less brains than a drop in a lake, he says.

The one wearing a blue teeshirt and smiling brightly greets me as soon as I sit down. "Hi, welcome to the club." He laughs; I guess it was a joke. "I'm Jacob, and this is Frederic," He says, smirking at the other otter.

"Freddy." The other one, dressed in a hoodie and a pair of glasses, shoots an annoyed look at Jacob that quickly softens as the first starts chuckling.

"I don't think we've really met before! I didn't even know we had a beaver in our class," Jacob remarks, holding out a paw that I stare at for a moment before tentatively shaking. I want to be mad, but I know I don't have a right to be. It's not the otter's fault that I keep to myself so much, but it's still not like I'm invisible! I come to class every day; even if they don't know me, they should have still seen me! Probably like my dad always says; Otters just don't pay attention to details.

I'm shaken out of my brooding as Freddy points over at my tooth pitted pencil and laughs, "yeah, you'd think there'd be more chewed up desks."

"I don't think that's a very healthy snack, man." Jacob adds with a grin.

"Wh-" I choke, shocked and seething from their insults.

"So, what's your name, anyways?" Freddy asks, straightening his glasses.

I open my mouth to give them a piece of my mind, only to be interrupted by the teacher as she calls for our attention so she can explain the project.

Still burning up, I make a point to pay very close attention to the teacher rather than the two termite-brained pool noodles I'll be stuck with. At least its just for one class...

\---

The end of the schoolday: my favorite time of day. The otters weren't too bad, all things considered. I had thought I was going to have to do all the work myself (from what my dad had told me about otters--Otters would rather let the current carry them than put the effort into swimming themselves.), but they did a good amount of work on it as well. I still can't wait to get home, though--today felt more exhausting than usual.

I'm halfway to my locker when I hear it.

"Hey, beaver!"

I turn around to see the otters practically skipping towards me. Maybe that's just the way they walk? I wonder how they think I walk. I walk normally, don't I? It must be their weird thick tails that make them walk like that; how can they swim well if their tails are round instead of flat?

"Hey, beaver!" I hear again, and I shake myself out of my thoughts.

I feel my heart beating a mile a minute as I back away from the mustelids until I'm cornered by the lockers; What did they want with me now? I did my fair share of work in class! Maybe they think I should have done more?

"Yeah, otters?" I try to shoot back at them only for it to come out as a mumble. Or a squeak. I'm not too sure what sound came out of my mouth, but I did know that it was more embarrassing than intimidating.

"What?" The otters asked in unison, heads tilted and eyebrows quirked in confusion.

"I-I said what do you want?" I sputter, wringing my paws together. I'm thankful, at least, that blush can't be seen through my thick brown fur, otherwise I might actually have died from embarrassment.

"Hey, calm down, man. We just wanted to know if you could head to the library with us? We want to work on the project a bit more." Jacob smiles and leans against Freddy, shoulder to shoulder. They seem close. I feel my stomach twist for some reason.

"Yeah," Freddy pipes up. "The sooner we finish it, the sooner we can relax!" He smiles, pushing his glasses up on his nose some more.

I had been hoping to go home and relax, after all, a Dam isn't built in a day; I don't want to refuse them, after all, they seem to be putting forth more effort than most otters, according to my dad. They might think I'm a procrastinator, and who knows who else they'd gossip it to.

"Yeah...Sure." I relent, "And my name is--"

"Great!" Jacob shouts as he wraps his arm around my shoulder and begins leading me away, Freddy walking on the other side. The shout, still ringing through the hall, had drawn some unwanted attention to the three of us, and I suddenly wish I were a smaller rodent so I could avoid their gazes. Thankfully, the interest is quickly lost as the other students begin filing out of the building to head home.

Lucky for them. I can only hope I don't have to spend the rest of the school year with these otters.

\---

"Hey, beaver, can I borrow some paper?"

"Hey, beaver, what did you answer for number eight?"

"Hey, beaver, here's that pencil I borrowed yesterday. Thanks for helping me out."

"Hey, Beaver, you got some free time tomorrow? The arcade is getting a new machine!"

"Hey, Beaver, check out this rare card!"

"Hey, Beaver, you want to come over to my house next week? Jacob's coming too."

"Hey, Beav, don't worry about her, I'm sure she didn't really mean those things."

"Hey, Beav, happy birthday, man! Check out what we got you!"

"Hey, Beav? ...Thanks."

\---

"Beav? Hey, Beav!" I snap out of my thoughts to Freddy tapping on my head. "Zootopia to Beav, anyone home?"

"Yeah, sorry, I was just remembering something," I murmur.

"Like what?" Jacob smiles and scoots over to me, entangling himself within my arms as Freddy lazily drapes himself around my shoulders.

"Just about how forgetful you two are," I laugh as I'm greeted by simultaneous confusion from the otters, both heads tilted and eyebrows quirked.

Jacob looks up at me, perplexed, "What do you mean?"

"You two couldn't remember my name in highschool, so you just kept calling me beaver. That's where my nickname came from."

"Hey, Freddy, you owe me twenty bucks."

"Wh-what?" I ask, glancing back and forth between them.

"I bet Jacob you'd remember that we asked you this three weeks ago. My loss, I guess."

Realization dawns on me that I had just gotten out bantered, but it doesn't matter. I just smile and snuggle in tighter with my otters.

I can't help but feel a twinge of guilt from having believed my father's accusations about otters back then, but I also feel a warmth growing, knowing just how wrong he was. How wrong I was.

After all, what do highschool memories matter now that we're older?

Less than a drop in a lake, I say.


End file.
